Darkest Day
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Nothing in life ever works out. Ever. At all. The whole world's conception was purely to screw over Bickslow. Of that, he's sure. - One-shot.


The smell infiltrated the tiny apartment in about an equal amount as the smoke did, at the center of both, their cause, resting flat on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

It wasn't night. Outside. It was probably only three in the afternoon. But long had the windows been blocked out by blankets replacing blinds, keeping out that filthy light that only proved to ruin any fun the apartments typical inhabited might have.

Everything was just more interesting, when obscured in darkness. Pleasure, sin, even personalities. It was a stylistic choice that, when any true amount of light was let in, would look off and wrong, but in soft glows offered a different take on reality.

All things were wrong, in the dark, and that was exactly what he was going for, Bickslow was, in everything he did in life.

Inhaling deeply, the seith's lungs burned a bit as he refused to exhale until absolutely necessary. It didn't hurt him though, not more at least than the constant pangs he got in his chest every time he'd glance to his side and realize that for one of the first Saturday nights in over two years, he was alone, in the dark, smoking without laughter or cruel introspection with the only person who would sit up with him, all night, every night, doing one or the other and even both, if they felt like it.

She thought that he was so damn cool.

That was one of the first things that she said to him, that time they found themselves hanging out all alone, just them. And it wasn't a date, because that would stupid, back then, as he still just saw her as this stupid annoying member of the guild that he loved to death despite himself and damn, she was annoying, wasn't she? She was so fucking perfect.

Bickslow hated perfect things.

Her best friend was fucking Natsu, that pink haired funk, who fine, Bickslow didn't hate anymore, not really, but fuck…

The damn Salamander was…

He was fucking good.

And yeah, Fairy Tail stood for good and maybe the Thunder Legion wasn't so far off base from it any longer, but Bickslow? Bickslow was fucking dark. He was a dark knight and he didn't care that Evergreen and Freed would ridicule him every single time he called himself that. Because he was. He was a damned tortured soul stuck in a vengeful world that was taking out the anger it had with its creator on him.

Him specifically.

He felt this, at least, many times throughout his adolescence and, though things didn't seem so bad any longer, he knew it would come back.

The darkness.

In fact, it didn't leave. It just got buried underneath his cloak, but it was there.

It was certainly there.

And fucking Lisanna Strauss knew nothing about it.

He was so cool though, to her, it seemed, as she kept saying it that entire day that they hung around that stupid beach town together, having happened upon one another in a definitely not planned at all by Evergreen and Elfman (no way) meet up by the Thunder Legion and the younger of the three Strauss siblings.

None too pleased with this _obviously_ not planned in any way what so ever soiree, the Thunder Legion's fearless leader went off to get on his communication lacrima and bitch about Evergreen (and probably Bickslow too, the seith was sure, because he always managed to fuck something up) to the idol, grumbling out to the seith as he went that this was not the sort of thing that an experienced team such as themselves should be doing.

Neglecting to inform him that, following a job, they could take as much time as they wanted to get back to Magnolia (or not go at all, honestly), Bickslow watched as Elfman and Ever made off with one another, bickering already, down one road and Freed down the other.

Somehow this just left him there with Lisanna fucking Strauss and they were just losing it, the two of them, when they turned to glance at one another, at not only the absurdity of the situation, but also the way that Freed had reacted to it.

That was one thing that he'd give to her, even back then; the kid had a sense of humor.

Lisanna was stuck there, as her brother would flip, she said, should she head back to Magnolia without him and he knew Freed wouldn't be much better, should he leave and, well, neither had eaten, as they found out.

Things started there, really, as had he just left her there, it would probably be the last time they were forced together. Freed would have scolded Ever something fierce and threatened her with something Laxus related (though, honestly, Bickslow had a feeling he'd find it as funny as both he and Lisanna had), leading to such a meetup never occurring once more and thus, ending things before they began.

But Bickslow as hungry. And when they were there, at that stupid cafe in the dead of a sweltering summer they just…

It was a connection.

Which sounded stupid, but it was true. He'd known her for years, been around for her supposed death, and even gotten to experience the joy in the hall, the day she returned and yet, never once did Bickslow feel anything more for her than he did ever other person in the guild that he might not despise any longer but certainly didn't feel close to.

He did then though, that day, when after lunch Lisanna giggled and asked him to go down the beach with her. Just to walk around or whatever, she'd insisted, adding on, that she bet his dolls would sure enjoy it.

So many people didn't acknowledge him, his dolls, but she did. And even asked, that day, as they explored the city together, what each of their names were and how they were different. What set them apart. How did it all work, anyways. What were they really? Other than his babies?

People didn't ask him things like that. Whether it was that they weren't interested, were too fearful of him to ask, or even just thought that it was too personal a question, it was something that never seemed to come up. They might whisper about it behind his back, but never actually broach the subject with him.

But she did.

And she asked about other things too as the day went on, turning into early evening. Lisanna wanted to know what job he and the others had just gotten back from, how come they weren't with Laxus, how did it work anyways, being a bodyguard to a man who could squish them under the heel of his boot. Did his visor ever get stuffy? How come he liked his funky Mohawk so much?

Personally, she thought it was cool.

Super cool.

Just like him.

When they finally went their separate ways, each with their own cohort of the ill-fated Elfman-Evergreen experiment, neither really pictured them hanging out again.

Or at least, Bickslow didn't see him doing so with Lisanna.

Again, it must be mentioned, she was friends with the damn Salamander. The most edgy friend she had was fucking Cana. Her claim to Fairy Tail fame was that she was related to an S-Class wizard and once got herself killed being insanely moronic on a mission.

It was pathetic, really, to think that Bickslow in any way connected with this woman. Kid, really. That based solely on that information, after one afternoon spent together, he felt as if he and her had anything a step above associates was should have been ignorant.

But he did feel that way. Enough so that, two weeks later when he came into the hall and found her all alone as Natsu and Happy were off on a job with Lucy, he felt very little fear in approaching the table she sat at and offering her a chance to come hang out with him for awhile.

The babies too.

She really liked the babies.

It didn't help any though, to think about such things as he laid there alone, his dolls not even active for once, as he found no comfort in the soft, green glows they provided. He'd long perfected blowing rings of smoke for the dolls to fly through and once upon a time, that entertained Lisanna greatly.

Now, it never would again.

If things had just gone right from the start for the two of them, as that day of hanging out only turned into more and more until, eventually, Lisanna found herself her very first true boyfriend, then when things went wrong, it had hardly took any time at all for bad to go to terrible to go to him being alone, half the things in his apartment gone, and an overwhelming since of his own self telling him that it knew so, that it had warned him, that the universe would only wait around so long fuck him again, hanging in the dry air and mixing potently with the smoke he was puffing.

They did everything together.

Everything.

They went on jobs together in those days, would come home from them, hang out doing the same shit they'd always done, that she'd always found so cool, that was always so great and fun and when did it stop being fun for her?

He felt like for him, it only been recently.

The shift, as he would call it later, when he spoke in broken words to Freed and Evergreen about the perils of Strausses and how, Mirajane might be the demon, but Lisanna was far off. It was just a...vibe that suddenly became rather apparent as Lisanna took to complaining a bit more, about the lack of cleanliness around their recently shared apartment which he felt was a big joke.

Bickslow wasn't a housekeeper.

He never had been.

Not once in their relationship had he made it seem as if this were true.

And she used to find it so endearing, he felt, as she frequently would giggle, when spending nights over at his place as she did long before they officially were living together at the fact he actually had enough beer cans littering his living room floor to make a set of bowling pins and, typically, even a few extra. She would shake her head when they couldn't go out because he'd forgotten to do laundry and all of his clothes stunk and they were just going to have to sit tight, while he washed some shit. She never minded the overflowing ashtray and typically even helped to contribute to it.

It was all different though, he felt, when it was no longer _his_ place that they were junking up, but rather _theirs._

He could live as if his self-worth was absolute shit, but damn it if she was going to.

And oh the fucking jewels.

The man never had money. Another cute attribute back when it was him not paying rent, not because he wasn't pulling jewels with his jobs, because he did, but because they chose to spend it on more important shit. Like smokes or snacks or really cool pants for the babies bodies.

Whatever they wanted, really.

He'd figure out rent when it came around and not a moment before.

Which never bothered her, when the most affect it had on her life was letting him crash for a few on the couch in the Strauss siblings' shared home. Suddenly, however, when she found herself having to cough up extra jewels on their split rent, to cover for his unpaid half, it wasn't so cute anymore.

What shocked Bickslow the most, honestly, was the idea that in any way Lisanna could have possibly been surprised by this. That there was any way, in her mind, that she could twist it into him duping her into believing, for some reason, that it was all just a gag, that he didn't really live that way. Or, rather, that he would suddenly stop, just because she was living there then. That suddenly, he'd form some sense of maturity and understanding of how to budget his things.

Maybe she thought, he considered as his mind wondered in the darkness, not that he just would, but that he would _want_ to. That with her more a fixture in his life, he'd decide it was time for a change.

That he should grow up.

That's what Laxus grumbled at him a lot.

That he should be more responsible.

That's what Freed thought.

That he should gain some damn self respect.

That's what Evergreen always told him.

That he should be a damn man.

Elfman told him this a lot. As if he had any right to judge him. Just because he was boning Lisanna. As if that suddenly gave him, a fucking nobody as far as Bickslow was concerned, the right to tell him anything about being a man.

Just because he didn't take care of his stupid sister the way the big moron thought he should, Elfman assumed this gave him some sort of a right to say that to him. It didn't. And Bickslow wasn't trying to take care of Lisanna. He never was. He never offered to.

He cared about her.

She'd been the closest he'd ever come to being in love.

But he wasn't his fucking babysitter. And was not a catalyst to making him change his ways. He lived the way he did not because he wasn't grown or wasn't responsible. He had enough self respect and fucking hell yeah he was a man.

Living the way he did, on the edge, with little care about anything or anyone, was all rooted in being himself.

He was an asshole.

Always.

He'd been one before Lisanna, during Lisanna, and he'd be one now, after her.

What he had to decide though was if he cared about Lisanna enough to _want_ to be someone different. Who she wanted him to be. And if he didn't, that was fine, but it was best then if things just came to an end.

This was what Mirajane told him, one day, when he'd gone to the boss man's apartment, hoping to that maybe Laxus would wanna do a special training session with him. Finding out that he was late and Freed had already capitalized on the slayer being home was more shocking, honestly, to the seith than Mirajane answering the door. He'd known for a bit about her and Laxus' hookups and honestly, coming out of the lovesick phase with his own Strauss and just entering the just pure sick one, only hoped his boss was stronger than him and able to resist Mirajane more than he had Lisanna.

Still, she invited him in and it wasn't often, that Bickslow got to look around the man's apartment (Laxus was actually rather private, even with the Thunder Legion) so he certainly couldn't refuse. Mira had made breakfast for Laxus, in preparation for his return, and offered the man a cup of coffee and a plate, which he accepted, taking a seat with her at the table.

And fuck, Mirajane was an idiot. Granted a powerful idiot. A well liked idiot. One he'd never call to her face so, but still, ultimately one of the dumbest people he knew.

Which is one of the reason why he most ignored her words, as they sat there, in the boss's kitchen. The other was rather simple as well; Mira was Lisanna's sister and therefore anything she told him, he figured, was tainted with her love of her sibling. That anything that came out of her mouth was biased and therefore not worthy of his attention.

Lying there on the floor then, replaying what she said, about how he should have just realized that he had no intentions of changing and Lisanna wasn't budging on the fact he needed and therefore, it just wasn't going to work. Ever.

When it was a play relationship, fine. When they got to go home at end, when they were tried of things, it all worked out fine. But when home was each other and there was no escape, it just didn't work.

He was living then, flat on the back in the center of his living room, the outcome of not at least attempting to end on better terms. On something other than where they were then.

Perhaps that was his folly. Both of them, truly. Maturity. It was something they both lacked in separate ways and in the end, bit them in the ass. Instead of realizing that they needed to take an immediate step back or get off the platform all together, they kept trying to mash in their different views of what a relationship should be together, ending in a huge cluster fuck of feelings that neither wanted to ever have to feel.

Mira wasn't an idiot.

He was.

But not blind. He knew, in some way, what was coming before it did. He could tell. Just… He just could. He was nearly certain that the others could as well, if not downright knew. The way Mira started just smiling at him, bigger than everyone else, when he'd come into the guildhall, and suddenly couldn't wait to get away from him, it seemed like, when the pair were speaking. And then there was Elfman who suddenly wasn't so concerned with his manliness, but rather would just give him a real pathetic look and fuck, Ever, fuck Evergreen and even the idea that they were friends at all.

Because Elfman knew, she had to know. And if she knew, then Freed knew. And fuck them not telling him.

Fuck 'em all.

Especially Lisanna for thinking that it was just okay to do something like that. To just… Not even just give up, but not care enough to do so before she went out and started a new relationship.

She claimed she didn't, only the day before the one he was currently being forced to suffer through, when she came to take all her stuff out, with the help of her brother. He wasn't supposed to be there, but fuck her again for thinking that he wouldn't be.

Elfman did most the work, hurriedly gathering up what Lisanna hadn't already while the pair argued and staying out of it for once.

Because he knew. He definitely knew. That's why he let Bickslow yell at her. Because even Elfman knew what she did was a shitty thing.

She had to have been fucking around on him. He was nearly certain of it. Or at least seeing someone else. Being gone all the time, never wanting to hang out, coming home all happy and then just starting shit with him.

Fine. Maybe those were just the markings of an ending relationship, but he didn't think so.

He just felt it.

If anything, Bickslow felt less like he'd been played because of the concept of her possibly cheating on him, but rather that he'd played himself. Gotten caught by his own game. He refused to change for her and wanted to keep being himself.

Was that not what she was doing?

Lisanna was someone who wanted to have fun. All the time. Constantly. Because he was so _cool,_ she'd decided for awhile to be with him. Now it wasn't so cool to be arguing over money or the fact he could never wash a damn dish. Who enjoyed bickering over the fact they were being threatened with eviction or the fact that a certain someone's older brother needed to leave him the fuck alone, immediately, before he showed him just how hard a real man could beat your ass?

So she found fun somewhere else.

Lisanna didn't mope.

That's what Bickslow did. He would sulk when something went wrong, smoke until his mind felt cleansed, and then sulk some more.

But whether he wanted to admit it or not, Lisanna had gone through some dark shit herself. She'd nearly lost her own life, once, and seen her parents end before her very eyes. This had left her with a desire to live as fulfilling a life as possible and, clearly, the well of fun that was Bickslow had dried up.

She was just doing to him what he was doing to her. He refused to change and was going to stubbornly sit there with his arms crossed until she realized this while Lisanna refused to stick around for something that was clearly dead and just decided to pack up with little warning or desire to try again, off to the next good time that came around.

He'd laugh, honestly, if he didn't feel like shit at the moment, alone, and contemplating what it would mean, to be that again. On his own. With her. He wasn't very good at it, you know? Getting with people? Women? And Lisanna had just kinda fallen into his lap at the right moment and the right time.

Gifted to him, maybe, their relationship had been, by the world, just so it could rip her away at the last moment like it loved to do to him.

Things getting better only lead to them inevitably getting worse.

Why did he always trick himself into thinking they didn't?

Freed would come by, eventually, that day. He always did, on Saturday afternoon's, mostly to scold he and Lisanna when he'd always find them just as the seith was then, smoking the dark, thinking about everything that meant nothing and nothing about everything that meant something, believing themselves deeper than they truly were and his words about how they should go do something with themselves far more shallow than they were.

And when he did…

When he did…

When he did, Bickslow ask him. For the truth. About if he knew if Lisanna was seeing someone. If he thought that there was any way he could ever get her back. And when the man would tell him yes to the first and no to the second, he'd only ignore all the other words out of the rune mage's mouth and smoke until he was too tired to continue to, and deal with in the morning, just how he was going to learn what to do again, alone.

On his own.

Maybe face the guild.

Maybe not.

At the very least, maybe his imminent despondency that was looming would make Laxus take pity on him and loan him a few jewels to, once more, barely skate passed eviction.

For some reason, the idea made Bickslow laugh.

Loudly.

A choking laugh, really.

It awoke his seemingly snoozing dolls who rose from their dormant spots around the apartment who took to floating around, calling out his name questioningly.

Still, he laughed, hard, smoke in one hand, holding his stomach with his other. Eventually he fell to his side and his laughter shifted from hilarity to reality and his eyes began to water a bit.

They'd sounded hallow, alone, his cackles did and hallower still was the ever growing pit in his stomach. It would be another hour before Freed showed up and before that, he allowed himself to shed a few tears and sulk some more.

It would just have to be another experience to take up. Add a broken heart to all the other disappointments and grief he'd suffered through over the years.

It wouldn't be the last.

And while that might not sound too optimistic, there, in the darkness, alone, it was enough to comfort him until his friend arrived.

* * *

 **This came from a request on Tumblr by fatalsonata for a one-shot about Lisanna leaving Bickslow for another man. I actually had another, more my typical jokey kinda style that I do Bickslow and Lisanna in started, but it was getting too long and out of hand and was turning more into a Thunder Legion/Strauss thing, so I figured I do this instead and finish that up another time.**

 **Bickslow here is a little darker than I usually write him these days and Lisanna comes off as kind of a bitch, but that's how I used to write them when I first started to. This is their characterization that I used back when I wrote Firsts, which was the first story I did for them (haha) and was still feeling out how I wanted them. Nowadays, I write them both as just complete morons bent on ruining Laxus' life who can, at times, be this serious, but they rarely are. I actually really kind of like both characterizations, but lean more towards jokey because when they're all in a big group, someone needs to be _that_ kind of character and Lisanna and Bickslow just fit the bill better than the others. **

**What do you guys think though? Darker Bickslow or lighter? I think Lisanna isn't that different either way, just when I go with darker Bickslow, I have to go with a more depth Lisanna to make it work, whereas if I'm just both showing them as idiots, there's no reason to explain why she's with him. They just both get to be stupid together.**

 **Anyways, this is getting to be a pretty long Author's Note, but if any of you guys wanna request something, you can PM or review it to me on here or send it to me on Tumblr. I mean, as long as I can make it work, I'll do whatever. Now that this is out of the way, About Life should be updated soon and then hopefully Masters and Mothers not soon after. We'll see though.**


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